


Quand la Fête est Finie / when the party's over

by purgatorydotexe



Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 21:19:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatorydotexe/pseuds/purgatorydotexe
Summary: Despite her mother's blatant demand that she not fall in love with the Viscount of the Sakan family, Magda can't help but find herself hopelessly enamored with him. But she knows that her feelings will never be returned, and resolves to keep them hidden away. But how is she supposed to react when Juven starts showing a sudden interest in her that seems beyond simple teasing? And what about her promise to her mother to never pursue him?(Tags to update)(Title subject to change)





	Quand la Fête est Finie / when the party's over

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic is so self indulgent that it's actually somewhat ridiculous but honestly anything that can get me writing again can't be a bad thing  
> i love juven sakan more than i love myself and i NEED the developers to let him be a romance-able character because it's not fair i love him so much  
> anyway there's like 2 or 3 fics in this subcategory so it looks like i'll be the only bitch in here throwing a pity party for myself lmaoo
> 
> anyway this first part is based off of the quartet night event and we'll go from there;; idk how chronological this will be so bear with this disaster lmao
> 
> if you like this fic or just wanna talk to me about helix waltz in general come talk to me on twitter;;  
> @purgatorydotexe
> 
> love y'all, hope you enjoy :')

“You look really dashing, Viscount Sakan.” Juven turned towards Magda with a sunny smile, eyes narrowed like a cat’s — playful, yet cunning. 

“You flatter me, little eyas.” Magda smiled to herself; that nickname again. At first, she wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to take the seemingly random moniker, but after a couple of months traversing Finsel’s social scene, she’d come to love the familiarity of the name and the light, teasing tone that came along with his using it. With so many people with motives quite puzzling to her, even her own mother’s at times, Magda was grateful that the Viscount had taken pity on her when she’d first arrived. She’d even call the two of them friends now, for the most part — she hoped they were at least. Whenever she spotted him at balls, the two of them would take sips of fine wine together and speak of all of the latest in Finsel’s news, and other interests. She was proud to say she knew a great deal about the Viscount now, having known him for over 6 months — and she was becoming more familiar with his habits every day. Like how, for example, he always tended to be distracted whenever the subject of his advances towards the women of Finsel came up. He was known as a playboy, sure, but Magda felt that there was something there deeper than that. His love of women was superficial, jarringly superficial for his reputation as Finsel’s greatest playboy. Even when ladies were crowded about him like dogs swarming their master for a slab of meat, the Viscount was always somewhat dismissive of them. He hardly held  _ true _ conversation with them. The only women Magda thought he’d ever heard him have true conversation with that didn’t consist of something frivolous were with his sister, Barbara, herself — even amongst his endless teasing, and well… Miss. Asteria.

Magda tried not to dwell on it, but it was so difficult not to. Everyone knew of the intense feelings Juven —  _ The Viscount _ , Magda reminded herself harshly — held for the elf mage. And it was no secret that Asteria loved him as well. Yet… The two weren’t together. Magda could only guess that it was fear of loving and losing him that held Miss Asteria back. Alminas, elf of the Jorcastles, was a prime example of the cruel hands of fate. Falling for a human as an elf was quite the misfortune in her eyes, Magda had no doubt. But she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the affection the Viscount showed her. Whenever they were together, they complimented each other like sun and moon; Miss. Asteria was the balance of reason and demure to The Viscount’s playful and laid back energy. During the balls that she actually came to on The Viscount’s request, they often spent much time outside of the grand dance floors and banquet halls in favor of wandering the gardens and secret places of whatever that balls location was. Magda remembered seeing glimpses of them, arms looped loosely together. Juven — The Viscount — always seemed so relaxed… Well, that wasn’t the word. Viscount Sakan was always relaxed,  _ deceivingly  _ relaxed. What she meant to say was more open. With much less to hide. Magda hoped that Miss Asteria felt lucky that she was someone that The Viscount confided in so readily. She only wished that she too could become someone The Viscount would rely on, even if he only ever saw her as a good friend; as a naive, little eyas.

Still, Magda smiled at him, warm and genuine. Juven didn’t seem to notice her affections, and she’d like to keep it that way. Her mother would scold her for falling for him if she ever found out, and she’d honestly rather have that conversation than face the mortification of being rejected formally by the Viscount. That and… She didn’t need Miss. Asteria’s wrath to come down upon her head either.

“A-ya. Just one compliment and he’s already grooming his pink feathers. His taste is still as bland as ever.” Gonzalo tutted disapprovingly, and Magda knew better than to argue with him. But still, she thought Juven looked  _ rather _ dashing that evening. His flashy pink coat had been traded for a much simpler, sleeker, black suit with rose red trimming. The subtlety of it brought out his eyes splendidly, Magda thought; while looking him over it was then she remembered what a startling, yet intense, emerald-like green they were. He wasn’t as fashion savvy as Gonzalo — no, Magda was quite sure that no one knew the ins, outs, and in betweens of men’s fashion like he did — but The Viscount was no fool when it came to looking his best. She could hear the swoons of the noble ladies in the crowd already, and they were still backstage.

“I think the only peacock grooming it’s feathers, is you, my friend.” The two heirs eyed each other, pleasant smiles still plastered on their faces, but only a fool would be blind to the tension. 

“Oh? I beg to differ. There’s quite a difference between preening and simply having  _ class _ .” Gonzalo waved one hand dramatically and the light glinted off the shiny new green cufflinks that Magda was positive he had especially made for this event. “It’s such a pity that you have no taste in gems. Those standard buttons on your cuffs are hardly a sight worth noticing. Even Lord Hugh has more of a sense for fashion than you do.”

“Keep me out of this. I hardly want to be here in the first place.” The usually cheerful Hugh’s countenance was particularly soured, and Magda felt bad for dragging him into this in the first place. In fact, only two of the four people present were even willing to perform outside of dragging in outside sources to force their hand. Lady Nyx stood off to the side of the three men, fiddling with the hem of her slender fitting black dress, and Magda quickly walked to her side. She knew social events weren’t the young Bavlenka’s forte, but she hoped that this event would help her usually awkward friend find some ground in Finsel’s circle. She knew of the expectations that her name and her father placed on her, and she couldn’t help but want to help the younger girl out. 

“How are you feeling, Lady Nyx?”

“Like I’ll faint, but I’ll live.” Nyx smiled up at her, and Magda gave her a reassuring smile back, putting a delicate hand on her shoulder. “I know you’ll do amazingly! I heard that your piano playing is quite stunning.” Nyx blushed under her praise, and shyly tucked a strand of her curly blonde hair behind her ear. “Well, I wouldn’t say stunning…” 

“Sorry I’m running late!” Miss Linglan burst into the backstage area, with all the chaos and commotion that usually came with her arrival, Guilolo hot on her heels and Maggie not too far behind. Since Magda helped her coerce the families into playing at this concert, Linglan had been running around like a mad woman trying to make sure everything was in order. It was an interesting sight; Magda knew planning balls was a difficult task, despite her attending at least one every single day; however, this seemed even more complex in comparison. It wasn’t often — or ever, really — that the Chamber of Commerce put together grand events such as these, and it was no surprise that in Linglan’s hands it was a blowout. The rented ballroom was almost a completely different space since when Magda had first been helping Linglan choose it, and it was as extravagant as it ought to be; at least, with the help of her own keen eye.

But being a helper wasn’t nearly as stressful as the overseer. Linglan wailed about grays all last night, but her enthusiasm still wasn’t diminished. She was an amazing woman, through and through. Magda felt her admiration for her grow throughout this whole process, no doubt about it.

“Magda have you given them the briefing?”

“I—”

“Two performances as a group, and one solo performance each, starting with our lovely Lady Bavlenka.” The Viscount winked at Magda, and she felt her face flush much to her inner dismay. “Yes, we’ve been informed quite thoroughly by the little eyas.”

“Everything will go smoothly~” Gonzalo chimed in his sing-song voice and Magda could hear Hugh grumble “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Five! Everyone take your places!” Magda ushered Linglan off of center stage and into the shadows where they wouldn’t be seen. The four musicians took their places, making final adjustments to their attire or instruments before everything began. A few moments later and a curtain slowly rose, revealing the stage to all those present.

* * *

 

The performance was everything anyone hoped it would be and more.

Seeing the young ladies and lords of each of Finsel’s most prestigious families performing so elegantly set all of Finsel’s circles on fire almost instantaneously; everywhere Magda turned there were people praising their efforts: be it the performers themselves, or the two who put the whole event together; herself, and Linglan. 

Linglan drunk up the praise along with generous sips of her expensive concoction of champagne and red wine, her haughty, yet well earned laugh ringing throughout the hall. Magda smiled hearing it; it did feel nice to succeed at such at an amazing accomplishment — people would even come up to her and congratulate her on her involvement, though she felt it wasn’t much. She still curtsied and thanked every person for their praise, as her mother taught her, and as a true lady should. 

“Magda!” Magda gasped in surprise when a pair of arms wrapped around her midsection from behind, but she sighed in relief when she recognized Barbara laughing happily into her. “The performance was so wonderful! Maybe this performance could make even me like music!” Magda grinned. “Maybe so. I’m sure your brother would like it if you took up such a task.” 

“Do you really think so?” The young girl’s eyes sparkled and Magda couldn’t help but remember how enamored she was with her elder brother… Much how she was. Perhaps more creepy however. But it wasn’t her place to tell Barbara that. 

Instead, Magda nodded, then grinned. “Of course! You know The Viscount is always proud of your achievements.”

“You think so?” Barbara’s countenance fell. “He always says I’ll never find a husband if I keep acting so mannishly.” The comment, though innocent enough, and partly true — she wouldn’t if she kept running suitors off with her bow and arrow that is — seemed to strike a deep chord within the young girl and Magda felt sympathy for her, despite the situation. She put her hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “I know it may not help completely, but I think if someone truly loves you, they won’t care about that.” 

“Wise words, from a little eyas. Perhaps your stay in Finsel is maturing you faster than I thought.” Magda turned, to the amused smile of The Viscount. But before she could react to what he said, Barbara was already throwing herself into his arms, praising him heavily for his performance. Magda couldn’t blame her. 

When Juven took to the stage alone, last but most definitely not least, his saxophone skills lived up to their rumor. Magda had never truly heard a saxophone performance before, but she was almost certain she’d never find one like the Viscount’s so easily again; the soul, the music, the emotions… Everything was polished to perfection. It seemed strange, how he could make such an odd looking instrument seem sensual, and elegant, yet he had. It was awe-inspiring. She herself had practiced with the piano just like Lady Nyx since a young age, but she couldn’t dream of owning an instrument so completely that audience members whispered that the instrument was made for you. She wondered how this special talent of his was discovered, and how he honed it; they were all questions she wanted to ask him after the performance, but hadn’t. Miss Asteria had immediately intercepted him once he exited stage left, and Magda heard her say that she’d missed his playing for a long time. Magda already knew he’d only performed just for her sake, but the missed opportunity to congratulate him still stung, and so she’d slunk away to find and congratulate Nyx instead.

She expected him to stay with Asteria the whole evening; why wouldn’t he, he did this all to show off to  _ her _ , didn’t he? So what happened next was quite unexpected to her; when Viscount Sakan released himself from Barbara’s hold, held out his hand towards her, and asked,

 

“May I have the next dance?”

* * *

 

The delicate plucks of a violin started it off. Situated in the middle of the crowd, her hand in Juven’s, arm on his bicep and his on her waist, was perhaps the last direction that Magda could’ve imagined this night going in. She thought she was going to end up home rather disappointed; perhaps cried a little when her mother sent her off to bed and their persistent maid finally let her alone. But she would’ve put on a strong face tomorrow, studied her manners, perhaps snuck out to the slums for information, or just to relax, and would’ve made herself presentable for a ball in the evening. Whose again? — Bavlenka’s. Lord Lou was to be the woman of the hour and Magda had been carefully considering an outfit that would not outshine her grace, but wouldn’t have her seem as a bumbling fool either, all evening. All thoughts of this were hastily thrown out the window however the second Juven asked her to dance. 

She was still shocked but she tried not to show it. It wasn’t uncommon for various people to ask her to dance at balls; despite her lack of confidence in her waltz skills. She just hadn’t been seeing Viscount Sakan around lately, and thusly, she hadn’t danced with him in awhile. The whole thing seemed rather peculiar… Hopefully she hadn’t been found out.

“You seem distracted, little eyas. I thought you’d be more enraptured by your success, like Miss Linglan.” Magda looked up at Juven as they spun about the dance floor. She’d never seen him dressed so simply before but somehow it made her all the more embarrassed. “I think I’m still in shock that we managed to pull it all together.” Magda replied, with a nervous giggle. “And everyone’s performances left me speechless.”

“Even mine, little eyas? I’m flattered.”

“Yes, I thought your performance was incredible, Viscount.” Juven blinked his eyes in surprise at her, but other than that his expression remained unchanged. A silence befell them for a moment; they fell into the movements  _ 1, 2, 1, 2 _ and glided effortlessly across the dance floor. Viscount Sakan was an excellent lead, as even with her thoughts jumbled and her mind hopelessly distracted, they didn’t run into another couple once.

Juven broke the silence first in their third loop around the dance floor. He squeezed Magda’s hand to get her attention, and her eyes refocused. 

“My father used to play the saxophone. He was the one who taught me.” Magda blinked once, twice, adding this to her mental repertoire of information. “Really?” Magda tilted her head. “I didn’t know the Duke was proficient in music.”

“Well, what does anyone know about that man? He’s a mystery, even to me.” Juven spat this out, frowning, and Magda couldn’t help but feel sympathy. Being a Viscount and essential leader of such a prominent family couldn’t be easy. Even Lady Tilla struggled and she was far older and wiser than Juven — though he was wise beyond his years. Magda supposed that this was a feat not by choice. Without her mother, Magda couldn’t imagine having to get by in the world all on her own… But then again, she would’ve lead a much different life. She would’ve still lived in the Slums after all. Was it truly in the Sky Goddess’s plan for her to become a noble? If so, then what was her purpose here? Nevertheless, she pondered a moment more. “Is that why you didn’t want to play today?”

“Was it that obvious?” Juven laughed, but it was somber. It seemed that despite it being beautiful, the performance brought the Viscount nothing but bad memories. Maybe it would’ve been better not to ask him at all…

“There you go again, little eyas.” 

“Huh?”

“If you keep wrinkling your forehead like that, you’ll get early onset wrinkles. I’m sure your mother’s told you about it before.” Magda gasped, and had half a mind to take her hand out of the Viscount’s to check her head but remembered at the last moment they were dancing, and instead did her best to smooth out her expression as best as she could.

“I— You—”

“I believe the term is “you’re welcome”.” Juven chuckled at her expense and let his grip slack on her for a moment; a cue that he wanted to spin. Magda followed, keeping their hands loosely connected and spun on the ball of her foot, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that went up her calf as a result. She’d gotten used to heels by now; perhaps it was time to retire this pair. She didn’t let the pain marr her features, and she spun back towards him, landing perfectly in step with him once more. 

“Don’t worry too much about it.” Juven pulled her body closer to his and the  _ heat _ that rose off of her face suddenly in that moment was enough to be a dead giveaway to her feelings she was sure of it.

“What’re you doing?!” 

“Keep your voice down.” Oh god; Magda didn’t know that the Viscount could make his voice sound like  _ that _ and she frankly, didn’t like how it made her heartbeat stutter in her chest like an offbeat drum. “Magda,” Was that the first time the Viscount ever said her name? “Don’t worry yourself about my troubles. You’ve done very well, helping Miss Moneybags throw this event.” Juven pulled back a tad, smiling at her once more, the tension slipping blissfully away like the last few notes of the song. The crowd clapped politely for the number, Magda as well, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the Viscount. Why had he… done that? She knit her brows together. There was no reason for him to pull her that close, was there? And why say her name so suddenly like that? Usually she was Lady Ellenstein in normal conversation, and “eyas” when he was teasing. What did it mean when he said simply “Magda”?

It bothered her as the night went on. She danced with Gonzalo, and gossiped about the latest trends. With Lord Hugh, and was pleased when she managed to get a smile out of him before the dance was done. Balfey for a turn; thankfully it was a group dance and she didn’t stay with him for long— he had a bad habit of stepping on her toes. With Willow, who she hadn’t realized had come. Lord Alminas— albeit shyly; his piercing gaze and beautiful features always made her stutter. But all through the night she couldn’t take Juven out of her mind. It was as though he put a spell on her; he was no mage but there had to be some reason she could feel whenever she was close to her, couldn’t there? Her night filled with celebration was turned into one of perplexation. Not even her good friends from the Slums could cheer her up. 

* * *

“We meet again, my eyas.”

Magda looked up, and once again, Viscount Sakan’s hand was outstretched to her.

The last dance of the night had come round, and while Magda had been planning to sit this one out, when Juven beckoned, she called; and came up to his side once more. Another slow waltz to wind was beginning to pick up, winding the night of merriment and festivities down to one final hurrah to end the night on. Magda was familiar with this practice; her mother instructed her as a noble lady she should sit final dances mostly out. They usually were strategically designed to allude to other things, and should she be caught with someone at the final hour it could spell rumors for weeks to come. 

However when the Viscount called, she came. He held out his arm gentlemanly, to escort her to the dance floor no doubt, and Magda found herself slipping her arm through his without a shadow of a doubt. What mysterious force had taken over her? She was usually more careful than this! But to her further vexation, when Juven began to lead, to the ballroom they didn’t go; but instead he lead her towards the side door that lead out to the garden. 

“Come,” He held open the door for her and Magda looked up at him with doe eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Usually at the last dance I like to go for a stroll. It helps clear my head from drinking so I can make it home without stumbling.” Magda couldn’t help but giggle at the jest and she shook her head in amusement. But she fell quiet once more. Juven didn’t let it show too much, but Magda liked to think she saw his eyes lose just the tiniest hint of their sparkle. 

“My lady?” Magda opened her mouth, then closed it once again. “No, I… it’s nothing, Viscount.” She brought her smile back once more. “I’m honored.” 

“Take this.” He shrugged out of his black suit jacket, and draped it over Magda’s shoulders. She looked up at him, self conscious about the dusting of pink she was sure was coloring her cheeks far ruddier than the blush she put on this evening. “I wouldn’t want my eyas to get cold.”

* * *

 

The two wandered, every now and again passing by the lit windows of the home. But Juven tended to steer them away from there, and deeper into the estate’s maze like garden. They talked about everything and nothing; about the performance, about the ball itself, and then onto different topics: fashion, rumors, hunting — one of the Viscount’s favorite sports. His archery was probably at its best then, when he was hunting wild game; especially foxes. Magda longed to know what that thrill would be like; to ride on horseback with dogs at your steed’s heels, to see who could outsmart whom; man or nature. Magda had expressed this aloud and Juven had let out a good natured laugh, the grip on her waist tightening some. It was difficult not to blush.

“I’m sure the dance is far from over now.” Magda giggled nervously once again, slowly stepping out of his embrace, though her heart longed to stay. “Aren’t we overstaying our welcome if we stay any longer.”

“Usually you leave long before, but these balls can last for quite some time, little eyas.” The Viscount replied airly. He crossed his arms over his chest loosely, with one hand cupping his chin as though he were thinking. He looked up for a moment, before he looked back at Magda again. There was a seriousness in his eyes that made Magda’s heart race— but for entirely different reasons. “Why have you been avoiding me, Magda?”

There it was her  _ name _ again! When he fixed her with such obvious irritation, Magda wasn’t sure how she was supposed to reply. She’d never seen him like this before.

“I… I’m not sure what you’re getting at… V-Viscount. I—”

“Save it, Lady Ellenstein.” In a few short strides Juven was in her space once more, and he reached forward, cupping her chin with elegant fingers dancing along her lower jaw and throat. “You are many things, my dear, but  _ ignorant _ isn’t one of them.” His gaze softened. “Naive, perhaps. But not ignorant.” His voice became softer and he released her. “My apologies, I lost my temper. But you have been avoiding me, have you not?”

“I um…”  _ It’s quite unladylike to stutter _ . Magda could hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head but she felt this had to be an exception. The Viscount was acting strangely, no doubt about it. But what was the meaning of it? Why was it she he was taking round the garden when Miss Asteria had come to the ball this time as well? Why was she  _ Magda _ now and not  _ eyas _ ?

“Nevermind.” Juven finally said after she stayed silent for awhile, unable to answer for she was lost in thought. He turned on his heel. “I’ll be expecting that jacket the next time I see you. There’s no need to wash it; I like it when it smells of perfume.” Magda blushed, realizing that she did indeed still have it on, and she rushed to try and take it off. “I— Oh my goodness, how improper of me—” But Juven had already begun walking away, holding up his hand as some sort of informal adieu. 

“I’ll also be expecting an answer to my question, eyas. Think on it more.” And with that he disappeared from the garden.

* * *

 

By the time Magda returned home and entered her bed for the night, there were no fruitless tears to stain her pillow that night. She also didn’t pass out immediately from pain and exhaustion like she did so many nights when she traveled to a ball in the wrong shoes; however, it did lead her to sleep much earlier than she liked. 

She took out the jacket she’d managed to hide from both her mother and her maid as she got ready for bed. She felt bad for wrinkling it but… Magda hugged the jacket close to her chest, sighing. 

“What is he thinking, really?” She wondered aloud. The jacket was surprisingly warm and broad, the inside velvety for maximum comfort and movability. It smelled of him; a scent Magda would associate with the wind in your hair down by the beachfront, and sharing laughter and good wine with friends. That’s sort of what Juven felt like, most of the time. But tonight… He was stranger. Magda thought she’d gotten to know him well these past 6 months but it turned out that there was still much turning in the young Viscount’s mind that she would need to dig further to discover.

 

_ How am I supposed to answer you when I still don’t know what you mean? What are you telling me when you call my name… Juven? _

 

It was the last thought that crossed her mind, before she fell into a restless sleep.


End file.
